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ontelp 

WRITTEN BY THE WAYSIDE 




ARTHUR REED ALEXANDER 



1922 

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON 

Copyrighted 



/^ Copyrighted 



©CI.A677217 

M / 9/922 






PREFACE 

Original Bonmots. Epigrammatic Thoughts and What Nots 

As favors before, at and after dinner affairs, 

Both large and small. We make them to order, 

To fit them all. Whatever the occasion may be. 

Perhaps a man of renown is to visit your town, 

Is to sit at your board, and you wish to entertain him 

With apt little thoughts that he never has heard. 

Should he be a statesman, make him relax. 

Spring something new that won't overtax, 

Our bomb Bonmots, made to order, are much in favor. 

Oft save the day and then there's little to pay, 

By the dozen or score, two to one shots cost more. 



TOAST TO MISS SEATTLE 

I would drink to thine eyes with a good home brew. 
But not the kind you've been accustomed to. 
The kind that's meant is of different brand. 
And the heart that's true will understand. 
Whether in a miss or as man to man. 
So here's to the miss — and you. 



Of the many country scenes that I have wandered through 

Give me the foothills of the mountains, 

With their ever-changing views. 

Man has greater vision where azure skies are blue. 



WITH GLADIOLI 



Blended perfume from all the flowers. 

Lend themselves to my lady's bower. 

From Thanksgiving and Christmas down through Lent 

Meeting spring and summer with good intent, 

Are always welcome where e'er they're sent. 



Here in Seattle we live by the Sound, 

And the sight is grand the whole year round, 

Our report to the East 

Is but a faint echo of the real sound. 

And the views of mountains both east and west, 

Including Mount Rainier, which is the best. 

Come and settle down upon our shores. 

And you will wonder why you hadn't long before. 



Knew Hector when he was a pup, 
Scarce realizes he's grown up, 
Except when he dogs my steps. 



Let's strive to be frank. 
But engagingly so. 
That all in contact may know 
That we're deeply interested 
In human woe. 



THE WAYFARER 
In 1921 



We are but travelers. 

Who are on our way. 

The road, at times, 

May be straight and narrow, 

Today and on the morrow. 

But with the signs upon the parallel ways 

He who hath God-given sight 

Need not go far astray. 

In 1922 
The wayfarer again flares forth 
Broadcasted to nations. 



Food for thought is often lacking in metre. 

If you would continue to deliver the goods 
You must keep them attractive. 



IN TUNE WITH THE RADIO 

Oft in the dark and stillness of night 

Adjusting our Radio we soon are receiving delight 

From Music afar, 

And feel on good terms with Radio stars. 



UNAPPRECIATED HONORS 

Honors which the world confers 
Oft become empty things, 
Unworthy to be borne. 
If we upon being favored 
With our bit of parchment, 
Receive it with folded arms 
And cold and cynical sneer 



And turn our backs upon humanity, 
Forget them all. Then 
Why should not they, in turn, 
Turn our picture to the wall. 



FIRST CATCH THEM 



African explorers claim that gorillas 

Oft attain a weight of three hundred and sixty pounds. 

Such heavy weights, known to be unusually strong, 

Should be put to some useful heavy work, 

Like breaking stone or crushing bone. 

But not the human kind. 



What is man but a pigmy, 

Without that magnetic lifting power 

That takes him out of self 

And lifts him higher? 

Then with holy zeal 

He's filled with new desires. 

To help lift others like himself 

From out the mire. 



Amundsen plans to cap the Pole, 

Outfitted complete to reach the goal, 

Where it's minus much of heat 

But very cold. 

The plenty they'll have to eat 

Will banish cold and supply the heat. 

And Radio will furnish music. 

With Northern Lights for pastime, 

That, sparkling, flashing, bold and dashing 

Aurora Borealis. 



I would that we establish 
A new school of poetic fancy, 
Sticking closer to facts 
Less given to necromancy. 



SPEED GETS THEM 

Yes, it gets many a man on his goat, 
For it takes its toll and smites you 
Tooth and nail, neck and jowl. 
And leaves you cold, and 
The world looks on another victim. 
Oft the result of not tooting a horn. 



Dr. Brown was always a sleuth hound 

For getting dope when he looked around the town 

Between whiles he sharpened our teeth 

And bridged the gaps, and when we lost our nerve 

He stopped our 5'ap with a little semi-narcotic pap. 

Now that he is in the ma3'0ralty chair 

I now serve him notice 

I'll be there for a hearing. 



Haroun Ben Dey is at outs with his harem, 

He insists that they play 

The harp in the old-fashioned way, 

While they have in mind a different lay 

The up-to-date jazz of today. 

Upon going to press, they were still 

Wrangling and jangling away 

With slight prospects of his having his wa\'. 

A rolling stone gathers no moss, they say, 
And when too swift has been the pace 
Remorse oft stares them in the face. 



If we should tell all the favorable 

Things that could be said 

About the month of June, 

There wouldn't be space enough here 

To voice the other kind. 



That of neglect may be one of the lesser evils, 
Ear wigglers thrive and grow fat on these hot days. 
If you've neglecated to put out the bait 
Do not longer hesitate. 



"DIFFERENT ANGLES" 

Many a man claiming to be morally right 

Has no hesitation about attending a dog or cock fight. 

And often telling his wife. 

He won't be home till late at night. 

Little she knows how he was spending his night. 



"JUST FOLLIES" 

There were Follies of 1920, 

The same in 1922, 
The makeup for the same 

Always remain in you. 



Springtime has lighter ones, 
Then summer solstice brings ; 

There's reactions in the fall,— 
Some come late in winter 

When the snow begins to fall. 

The follies of the Winter, 
Spring, Autumn, Fall. 

Ever on your guard. 
Guard against them all. 



TREATING THEM ROUGH 

The Landlady blithely sang, 

"Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep," 
In a voice so soft and sweet and low, 

It almost made me weep. 

Later, on a tempestuous sea. 
She sang a different tune, — 

"Once is more than enough for me ; 
Please put me on shore again soon!" 



Sounds like the patter of feet 
Came from the window pane, 

'Twas but the tempo of music 
In the midsummer night's rain. 



WHISPERINGS 

Take the murmurs of the Sea, 

How they entreat me, 

But their mystery 

I cannot fathom. 

They are too deep for me. 

Who, in their roll and swell. 

Can tell what therein dwells. 



ON DE CABIN FLO' 
W^ent into a cabin, 
Down by de sho', 

Doan know who been livin' there bcfo,. 
But man, they sure been livin' scrumptious! 
How do I know? 
Chicken bones on de table 
And rabbit's foot on de fio'. 



AT THE BAZAAR 
For sweet charity's sake 

We often eat dill pickles and heavy pound cake. 
Redeeming the day with Angel's food. 
Quite an expense, when you have a large brood. 



Man often takes the odium, 

The ridicule and laugh. 
When employed by a paper 

And be a member of their staff. 
Being ever loyal 

When the enemy throws the gaff. 



When a man's Ego 
Is greater than his intake, 
It must from necessity 
Be combined with vapor. 
Or hot air — or both. 

June is the month of roses and brides. 

Some of the roses are prim-roses. 

But few of the brides. 

These are the days 

When the fragrance of flowers 

Is at its best, and 

All Nature attests 

Its benevolence. 

While many of the human kind 

Are somewhat blind 

To the many beautiful things we find. 



It's rather complimentary 

When competitors grab 

And try to crab our acts. 

Oft times their productions 

Resemble Jim-cracks 

Compared with ours. 

So let them copy 

And we'll continue to set the pace. 

'Twas ever thus, with the human race. 



A Scotch mist never misses anything. 



How refreshing to meet a Freshman 

In the first few months of his career. 

And a few months later 

What a chastened, sad and wiser man is he. 



8 



In the spring, when a young man's fancy 
Turns to Black Eyed Susans and tulips, 
The more prosaic things like spuds and turnips 
Go rutabegging. 



Foolish wives, encouraged by irresponsible men, 

Still continue to furnish our annual crop of has-beens. 

Some will reply to this by saying, 

I'd rather be a good has-been than a never-waser. 



This scene is laid in new Nassau, 

The old has passed away. 

The modern jazz was in full swing. 

And in the center, and making the. welkin ring, 

Was one of the clan. Ban McGraw. 

Another disputed his title 

And Ban was raw. 

And listening to the siren's song 

Prodding him on. 

He was in no mood for trifles. 

So he took him on. 

The jazz was stopped, all but the old bass horn. 

And the battle raged until the poor bassoon. 

Was laid away cold until the following day, 

And Ban wasn't the one that was laid away. 



There comes a time in the lives of men 
When they're called upon to scale the top. 

Then it rests with them 

To surmount it without a flop. 



With the hardening of the h( arteries) 

There comes a lessening of the tension of the spring. 
From hard and stony faces there is less of joyous laughter, 

Seldom does the welkin ring. 



"CORN STARCH" 



What a prominent part in our lives it plays. 

We have it in our soup, 
(I am thankful it is not in our tea.) 
You'll find it in your custard pie, 

Also in the cake. 
Please recommend to me something in which it is not baked, 

Or stewed, or filtered through. 



The money that it once took to make the mare go 

Doesn't carry you far with a flivver, 

While the old gray mare oft went on a tare, 

Kicked her heels in the air 

And sometimes broke the fender, 

Which didn't take much of the legal tender 

To mend either her or the fender. 



SON, WATCH YOUR STEP 

You may have your fling, my son. 

But beware lest it be too far flung, 

For you cannot recall all the deeds you have done, 

Even though you're forgiven. 

There's the scars that's left, 

And you're not quite like your former self. 

There may be a girl come into your life, 

A likely one that you might take for wife. 

So guard your step and watch it well, 

For there's a bottomless pit in the depths of hell. 



Since the World War's ending 

Have you not felt at times 

That the atmosphere was surcharged 

With some momentous thing impending? 

While I'm not prepared to say what it means. 

It may be to usher in a new regime. 



A man who won't look out for his own interest 
Isn't safe with your coupons. 



A well known preacher of the Northwest 

Received, a short time ago, a letter 

From a colored member of the cloth, 

Saying, "Brother, being six feet four inches tall, 

I think that I could wear your suits, 

Even though I wouldn't be entirely 

Able to fill them with credit." 

He received several, forthwith, 

And now, like Solomon of old, he goes forth 

Arraj^ed in all his glory. 

And preaches to his flock 

A better and more uplifting story. 



The world seems to be getting safer for Democracy 
But rather uncertain for some of the Aristocracy. 

10 



INFLUENCES 

We have but to read of the life 

Of the late Lillian Russell, 

To realize the great possibilities 

Of individual life. When, having 

Normal parents, their offspring is 

Indellibly stamped by pre-natal influence 

The mother has but to hold 

To the thought of all that she holds dear 

In future son or daughter, 

Letting no trivial thing 

Crowd out the thought. 'Tis but a prayer 



For good, when once it's understood. 

No doubt most of the talented ones of the past, 

You can thus account for, first and last. 



Twinkle, twinkle, little star 
As you shine on a new Ford car. 
Can you tell by your blinking eye, 
What it really is from up so high? 



We spend our substance in a day, 

Then fret and fume 

At the slower process, 

The reannealing of the clay. 



CLAMS VERSUS MAN 
Clams are restricted in their range of vision, 
They see through a water glass darkly; 
Man, having a larger vision, 
Doesn't necessarily have to stay in a rut. 
It depends a great deal on the will. 



Though the Humming Bird does not sing, 

There's harmony in the vibration of his wings. 

So well attuned are they to nature, 

Of which he is a part. 

You scarce note the difference. 

When he makes a sudden dart, 

In leaving a smaller flower, 

For the larger one in the bower. 

His is not an idle life. 

Oft times he has a wife and fledglings, 

Nestling behind the tendrils in the hedge. 

Although he sips the honey on the wing, 

If disturbed, he, unlike the bee, leaves no stino-. 



11 



While Chastity bends and reels to the tune of Jazz, 

There's lack of harmony in the air, 

That rises to meet the vibrations from the stars. 



Many who would dodge the sun 

Are not so anxious to avoid the moonshine. 



She laughed to get fat. 

Now she'd like to be thin, 
But the germ once inside 

Refuses to come out again. 
Another stunt she'll have to try. 

Rolling on the floor and kicking sky-high. 



The Lake Union Fleet having rested long. 

And had its nap, will now be scrapped. 

'Twas an empty honor, being admiral to that fleet, 

No need of holy-stoning decks 

While it slept, or splicing the main brace 

Of which Uncle Sam does not approve. 

Except they're three miles off shore. 



We are living in age of irreverency. 
And there is much misdirected energy 
Among the youth, and a tendency 
Not to take much of any responsibility. 
Believing it better to 
"Let George do it," and 
He has his limitations, 
He is catering to too many already-yet. 



A presidential Bee has lodged in 
Many an aspiring man's bonnet 

And when it left him cold 

He still was mad as a hornet. 



Today you can play well your part. 
With an unbiased mind and an open heart 
It becomes a simple art. 



12 



Three bricklayers were continually losing time, 

It had been three weeks since the sun did shine, 

And how their board bill did climb. 

And to make it worse, the rain had slacked the lime, 

And they were yet beating time 

And using winter's scanty hoard 

To pay their board. 

But love is ever blind — 

Women continue to marry bricklayers — 

In the good old summer time. 



NEW ERA CLUB 

We are entering a new era, and partial disarmament finds the 

world more anxious for a uniform creed. 
It's all embraced in the Golden Rule, whose code of ethics 

ever holds true. 
Never demanding more of me than you. 



Within the great Sargasso Sea 

Many derelicts are floating round, 

Even here on Puget Sound 
Many may be found. 



Miss Seattle, backed by Eastern and Western Washington, 

Faces the East, calm in her loyalty. 

Loud in her praise of lakes, rivers and Sound, 

And farther away where mountains abound. 

Bounteous crops never fail us. 

Either in fruits or grain ; 

We are never the losers, we always have gained. 

Then you of the East come to the feast — 

We'll make you a cobbler, both juicy and sweet, 

The under crust of our good whole wheat. 



We often read of a continental flight 

That's about to be made. 

The next we hear. 

They have started on the first leg. 

Followed by a report that something has gone wrong. 

And they haven't a leg left to stand on. 

13 



As we go up and down the vale, 
Looking for the trail, 
We often meet old Baal 
With stock for sale, 
As he gushingly tells us 
Of his flowing well. 
We can't help but think 
That he wants our kale. 



No matter what they say of you. 
And more or less of that be true, 

Be forgiving, cnange your mode of living. 
Then they'll have that much less to say of you. 



Love is often passive in the valley. 
When it feels no pain ; 

With the passing of the sunshine 
And the coming of the rain. 

Firm hearts meet the storms 
Without a thought of pain. 



Some receive their vision in the mountains 

Or beside the sea; 
Others get their vision while beneath the trees, 

While the few visualize all three. 



The Village Blacksmith is still a valiant man, 
But Fords and autos have shooed the horse away; 

And when he hangs a whiffletree 
He hangs it on a tree. 



Men of the past generation 

Were taught to champion the rights of women; 

Women now seem able to stand for their own rights. 



Many a man when caught with the goods. 
Makes a wry face and a poor mouth 
When brought before the judge. 
And some get away with it. 



SAID SHE 



W^hile we can no longer agree, 
Let us feel that through Adam 
We still have the same genealogical tree. 
14^ 



AND THEY WERE 

About the time the March zephyrs 
First began to blow, 
Some pussy-willows, advance agents, 
Of Spring's varied floral shows. 
Poked their soft furry noses. 
Out into the cold and snow. 
And rested while it blew. 



Babylon rose to social heights, 

But not to that o^ glory; 
Had she trod a different path. 

History would have chronicled a different story. 



THE HOUSE THAT'S IVY CLAD 

The house that's ivy clad 

When diffused by the morning sun. 

Appears to be glad. 

Although a pearl gray tear 

Sparkles here and there. 

There's no need to despair — 

They'll be absorbed 

In the sunlit air. 



A widowed mother, having but one. 
And that a daughter. 
She had lost her son, 

(He'd eloped.) 
She was kept busy shooing suitors away. 
She was successful with all but one. 
And he the most determined man under the sun. 
He wouldn't be shooed, and she hadn't a gun. 
And remembering the last act of her son. 
She let the daughter go by the run. 
And when in their own little home they had come 
You couldn't drive her away. 
She settled down. 

Claiming they needed her the worst way. 
There she stays to this day. 



THE RAINBOW 



The vivid, livid colors in the spectrum 
That are thrown across the skies. 

Revive in me a hope — 
A hope that never dies. 



15 



ECHOES OF THE PAST 

The murmuring which you hear 
Coming from the depths of Puget Sound 
Are but faint echoes of the undertow, 
Of ships that left here long ago. 
Were last reported in dire straits, 
Entering into an unknown sea, 
As yet uncharted by you and me. 



Truth ever living in the open 
And above board, 
Has no need of an excuse 
Or subterfuge. 



THE RABBIT'S FOOT 

We claim no relationship with the evil one, 

But we carry this fetich 

Within the right hip pocket 

And sometimes there's another kind 

Within the other pocket. 



It takes courage while paying for a dead horse 
To have a live one eating his head off, 
And nothing for him to do 
To help you through. 



He was only a soldier, like one of the many. 

But it fell to his lot to be left behind 

In storming the battlements that encased the Rhine. 

His was a noble end. 

When the last trump is called 

He, arising in his place, will answer, 

"All is well ! I gave my blood, 
I did my best, 

To break the hold 

That the devil had wrest, 

But couldn't hold 

When put to the test." 
With the setting of the sun 
He's gone West. 
In going East why should we mourn? 

16 



Millions have lived upon this plane, 
V/ho have not left a name 
Emblazoned in the Hall of Fame, 
But above, in the Hall of Justice, 
They are immortalized with Peace 
Through Love. 



A chimpanzee may not have much refinement of feeling 

Within his being, 
But he can play on a tin pan to beat the band, 

Can a chimpanzee. 



This world is very much in need 

Not of a new creed, 

But a better application of the old. 

Whose code of ethics ever holds true. 

Never demanding more of me 

Than it exacts of you. 

But often giving and receiving 

In larger measure than before. 

Since the World War's ending 

This message is being rejuvenated. 

In fact it's in travail of a new birth. 

Why not pass it on — 

Let it be far flung 

To the teeming millions of earth. 

Whether beneath the tropic moon 

Or under the shadows of the Midnight Sun, 

It matters not their color 

But depends upon the need. 



Having Radio and knowing how sound and light waves travel, 
We, ere long, may know more of the mysteries of the ether zones. 
Enforced stay-at-homes now hear much of truth 
That's lost to those that roam. 
Making their abiding place 
The more like home. 



We're living in a time 
When people like to spring 
And break their fetters, 
Going their neighbors one better. 



17 



IN POSSUM LAND 

No better Possum in de land than 

In Georgia. 
They shoot both Possum and Craps 

In Georgia. 
And sometimes a coon 
Is caught in the trap, 
In the scrap. 

In Georgia. 



RADIATING RADIOS 

What are the Radio waves a-saying? 

The best way is to listen in at home 

Over your own receiving line, 

Whose business end's a phone. 

It's the same old story, 

You'll often hear the world buttin' in. 

Would take an aviator to get 'em off the line, 

And that would be too much waste of time. 



Many of us would be less given to seeing red 
If we kept better hours and went to bed at ten. 
Instead of borrowing from the next day 
Before we finally hit the hay. 



HOSIERY 



For length and breadth and height 

And variegated hues, 
A man having good sight 

Need never have the blues. 



Seattle played well the host 

To Marshals Joffre and Ferdinand Foch, 

One born on the border of France and Spain, 

They've not been idle, or lived in vain. 

For these are names that will endure. 

Stars emblazoned upon Time's Historic page 



When all is said and done 

What does man really amount to 

Unless he asserts himself, 

And shows that he possesses a backbone 

And is not a spineless worm? 



Peggy, my girl, beware 

You still have many leagues to go, 

And only one pair of feet. 

So conserve your strength 

And watch your step. 

We know it's natural for you 

To have lots of pep. 

There are slippery places in the walks, you know, 

So, now again we say, 

Watch you step. 



To those who awaken at break of day 

And hear the robin pipe his lay, 

And sing it in such a peculiar way 

That only he knows how to say, 

At that critical moment when night gives way to day. 

Feel well repaid, thankful 

That they'd not overlaid. 



Some men are naturally retiring, 

Others claim to be, 

As some clothing firms we see 

Who made that statement years ago, 

Are still in the game, and show 

No intentions of retiring out of sight, 

Of closing doors and saying good-night. 



Retiring Mayor Caldwell and Mayor-elect Brown 

Tripped to Skagit town 

And standing shoulder to shoulder 

And looking up the gorge. 

Both realized with one accord 

The vast potentialities 

Of that wonderful power. 

Now ye taxpayers of this fair city. 

Pay heed. This project when complete 

And conducted by competent men, will eventually 

Pay off our city carline bonds and some left 

In the exchequer. 



The infinite mind takes care of the tatters, 
No matter how battered they be. 

Even calms tempestuous seas 

That are ever welling in you and me. 



19 



RUTH 

Yes, that's her name. 

She came into my life, 

And having the right alloy, 

Association with her did not annoy 

We're married now, yes, it's a boy. 

We've named him Roy. 

We have settled by the fire. 

Joy, bring daddy's slippers. 

At-a-boy. 



A seeker of truth having faith. 

Was guided by understanding. 

To the stage of life, 

Whereby wise counsel and exaltations. 

Were made to feel 

That only through being humble, 

Could he best serve his fellow man. 

Down through the ages 

There have been songs of praises. 

Now let the welkin ring. 

With hozannas to our Guide and King. 



BILLICUM 



Living on Yesler Way 

Is the original Billicum. 

He is nine or ten, I should say. 

Met him one rainy day. 

Had on a fisherman's suit, including the boots. 

Hoot mon, he'd make you laugh, 

This original Billicum boy. 



While within the adolescent age, 

Children should be allowed 

Both to romp and play, 

Rolling, bowling and sometimes strolling, 

But not out upon the great highway. 

Where Lizzies flit and sometimes hit. 

Let them play within their yard. 

And all formalities discard. 

If they're under proper care. 



Some roll them low. 
Some roll them high. 

High or low 

They catch papa's eye 



20 



Though we buckle on the armor 
Morning, noon and night, 

Often when corrected 

We're inclined to start a fight. 



In the U. S. A. we are in a state of ferment, 
They've been raising it 
Until they've got a bead on it, 

But many of Uncle Sam's sleuth hounds 
Have a line on only a small part of it. 



BOUNTEOUS GIVING 

There's bounteous returns 

To those who are giving. 

It's a fine art, this better mode of living. 

Where it comes from the humble heart. 

Constantly giving, yet having more. 

It's God's decree, that having given 

Apparently all of your store, 

In the wellsprings of life 

There's so very much more. 

That you and I can never lessen the store. 



HUSBANDS, ATTENTION! 

Seattle housewives are ever on the scent 

Not always for money boned, or lent; 

But for saving, where it's spent. 

With the average woman it's the natural bent. 

Man doesn't have it to the same extent. 

He earns it while Mollie caulks the seams and lessens rent. 

And having a saving wife, it don't always pay to ask 

Where it went. Sometimes taking it for granted 

And be content. 



FEAST OF NATIONS 



Nations will feast in larger measure 

Only as they increase in wisdom and understanding 

Realizing that one is as good as another 

In the sight of God. If they've but the faith 

Of their fathers, and larger vision 

Of the Mother of us all, whose heart goes out to us 

Since Adam's fall. 



21 



'Tis not enough 

When we have planted seed on fallow ground, 

For our potatoes we must scratch and dig, 

And make and keep mellow ground. 

And see that water goes the round, 

But not too damp, 

For that would cause 

Both scale and rot. 

Then without a crop 

Many would cry and wail 

But that would not avail, 

None to eat and less for sale. 



THE CURSE OF TODAY 

Our day of grace, 

In which we've faced 

The problems of 1922, 

Are nearly through. 

Now it rests with you and me. 

Since we've agreed on a working plan 

That will protect our fellow man 

In his fight against the narcotic foe, 

That insidious thing 

Controlled by the devil's ring. 

That carries with it such a viper's sting. 

Befogs the mind and dims the vision. 

Shrinks the heart and warps the soul, 

That was in quest of a better goal. 

Now, any man who would sell such stuff 

Outside of urgent use, 

Should be kept in durance vile 

And all the while be served 

With bitter aloes and wormwood tea, 

A quite insufficient penalty. 

You'll with me agree. 



BETWEEN THE LINES 

Altho a faded and withered rose 

My resting place a bed of prose. 
While my spirit dwells in the heart of the Muse 

Where the mystic rythm does not confuse. 



?? 



THE PILGRIM ON THE WAY 

Tho dyed in the wool, 

A wisp of gray 

This animated bit of clay 

Was scarce noticed 

Upon the great highway. 

But a sparrow cannot fall 

Without the Master knowing all. 

As the wind is tempered to the shorn lamb 

So is it to the Pilgrim on the road 

Whose back is strengthened 

To carry the load, 

As he faithfully struggles on. 

What cares he for scorn, 

Being unafraid, he takes the grade 

That the uninitiated could not have made. 



THE TRAFFIC COP 

Within the center of the congested street. 

Is the small confine of the traffic man's beat, 

As he swings his sign to and fro. 

Pointedly telling you to "Stop" or "Go." 

Do not ignore the traffic cop 

When he tells you to go or stop. 

Violators oft go to the shop for repairs. 

Whether in autos, or jaywalking across the square. 



THE BEACON OF LIGHT 

Dark though the night. 

There's a radiant glow 

Diffusing spiritual light 

Where e'er you go. 

Roll high the shade; 

Then into your heart 

Come's the Soul's Beacon of Light, 

Communion by day, guiding at night. 



As we exercise and fertilize the mind. 
Let it not be at the expense of the spine. 



I've been living in the valley, 
AVhen there came depression 
I upward looked and lived. 
Where there's a vision of the hills, 



23 



Music has charms to soothe 
The savage in our breasts, 

And calm our minds, 

When under great duress. 



DOGS 

How they romp and love to play, 

When we have a pleasant day. 

Have you noticed them upon the lawn? 

One stood as a sentinel by the way, 

While the other with his ears laid back. 

Made of the lawn a circular track, 

As he surged around him front and back. 

And then they both tore up the track, 

And tired out, they soon came back. 

And lying prone upon the ground, 

With lolling tongue they made faint sound, 

So much like tired romping children. 



We fill our lives with nonessentials, 

And when called upon to deliver the goods. 

We haven't the credentials. 



Have you been depressed. 

When rocked in the cradle of the deep, 
And had scarce the strength 

The vigil to keep? 
Then with the parting of the waves. 

You beheld the silver lining. 
Then your hopes and aspirations, 

W^ent soaring and a-climbing. 



The spring of perpetual youth 

Rests in the heart of man. 

While the fountain's head is higher up. 

There's always sufficient for you to sup ; 

So drink to your fill. 

And impart the good will. 

That others may live and enjoy the product 

That wise nature distilled. 



There are some phases of human woe 
Not fully given man to know. 
The loss to a mother of her only son 
Who but glanced the horizon of Life, 
Then left this sphere with all its strife. 



24 



The fate of nations hangs in the balance, 

They are nearing the precipice. 

There's an urgent need of a counterbalance. 

Civilization is seeing red, 

While going through the crucible. 

It will emerge 

After being purged 

Of its tinsel and dross 

And baser metals 

Into a more refined product, 

An amalgamation 

Trued, as steel. 

That will better measure up 

To the Golden Rule. 



Strange vibrations in the air, 

Spooks are on a tare. 

What an intangible thing is a ghost, 

You fail to grasp him 

When you'd like to most. 

He's never sociable to his host. 



While Seattle has the right Spirit, 
She hasn't it all ; 

Tacoma has some of that dope herself. 
And more brewing. 



When pulse is weak and the eye grows dim. 

What is that to her or him. 

Where the mind and heart are attuned 

To a higher plane. Though the sun may scorch 

And there comes wind and rain, 

What care they? 

'Tis but the price they owe 

To the one who paid. 



SPRING TONICS 



Twas easy for me to take pennyroyal and wormwood tea when 

a boy, 
But when called upon to take harlem p.nd castor oil. 
Then was the battle roval. 



Artists are born, not made. 

He who has not the temperament. 

Had better learn a trade. 



25 



Toda)' came an awakening, 

To her who had been but a pawn. 

While he had played the game, 
And time went on, 

And no longer interesting to him is her song, 
So he travels on. 



Some folks say when a man's forty 

He can't come back. 

Often all that's needed 

Is getting on another track. 

And ripped things up the back. 

A change of tide may bring a favorable breeze. 

Making your competitors wheeze. 



A little bird sang to me, 

With quiet and mellowed thrill. 
I felt I'd received a blessing 

Through his good will. 



A she bear lay wounded in her lair, 

And she had little strength to spare; 

But her cubs were there, 

So she gave to them 

The little she had to share. 



ONLY A WEEK 



Unsullied by the world, 

He returned from his week's vacation. 
It might have been different 

Had it been of longer duration. 



THE BLUEBIRD 



You're a belated harbinger of Spring. 
Nevertheless, you make the welkin ring. 
As you sing your lays today — 
A lift for work and a lilt for play — 
Joyous melody through ail the day. 



Tractors as universal plowshares will soon be in vogue 
They are taking the boss — but leaving the dogue. 
Even when Genius but occasionally flashes in the pan 
Let's give credit to our fellow man. 

26 



THE SEATTLE SPIRIT 

The Seattle Spirit would be truer to form 

If it lived more in the light in which it was born. 

Born in the faith that will never say die, 

Are axioms for you and I. 



I oft drink to thine eyes, 

But it is to the heart I would speak. 

A responsive appeal would cause mine to blink. 



Oft the drink that's brewed today, 

Turns to bitterness in the cup. 

When later we would sup and drive dull care away. 



A church on the hill near Yesler Way has a cross. 

And a few days ago a yellow-hammer was there drilling away. 

You could hear him for blocks around. 

You'd have thought him a riveter by the sound. 

He probably was sharpening his drill, 

For he looked too wise a bird 

To expect to find worms in a cross, 

That is placed en the roof of a church on the hill. 



Beauty and the beast attend a feast. 

He being indisposed. 

She advises a cake of yeast. 

Later when called upon to give a toast, 

He responded with wit and vim. 

Vitamines were working with him. 



Taking the bull by the horns 
Is easier said than done. 

A novice who tried it, 

Thought a catapult had sprung. 



When the finality has come 

And all has been said and dene worth while, 
A smile and a waft of the hand 
Lingers long in the mind and heart 

Of man or child. 



A man may be filled with malice and guile, 

But there are few among them. 

That would break faith 

When once he'd pledged himself with a child. 



27 



For she'd accepted you, 

With all the sincerity of youth, 

And that is why you've kept your word 

With her, your little ward. 



In the heart of a mart of trade 

A slim and petite maiden 

Sold me a roast of beef. 

And in the same day a block away, 

A short and beefy girl 

Sold me clinging chiffons and lace, 

Neither one had found her place. 



THE SEATTLE SPIRIT 

Is it hard to define? 

No, if you'll but get through the rind ; 

Then cut to the quick, 

There at the heart of the core, 

You'll find 

A spirit existing. 

That never says die. 

Born of that spirit, are you and I. 



Having a reprobate mind 

Is due to the liver ; 
If not cured in the vale. 

There's faint hope beyond the river. 



The impression we make on the world 

Depends to a great extent 

On pre-natal influences. 

Unless you recognize and 

Overcome the handicap 

Today you can play well your part. 

With an unbiased mind and an open heart, 

It becomes a simple art. 



WOMEN 

One mere man says: 
"She's a lemon sour." 
He evidently has received a punch. 



Another, more complimentary, says: 
"She's a man's safety valve." 
He's probably inclined to tank up. 



28 



Many carp about the social warp and filling, 
Then they jazz instead of getting in and drilling. 



I ate an egg that came from storage, 
Judging from the taste of it, 
It long had paid demurrage. 

AND SPEAKING OF EGGS 

In the local market we have a wide variety to choose from, 

They range from local to bifocal. 

You'll more readily understand me when I'm through, 

There's the large brown and white eggs, 

And the nondescript which include pullets, pewees, 

And last and least, weewees. 

Otherwise known as bifocals. 

It's hard to locate the source of supply, 

Although there are many pigeon lofts close by. 

They seem to be here to stay your stomach. 

Provided you eat enough of them. 



They who the golden rule would seek. 
Need more humility and less of cheek. 



We jazz and swing. 
And have our fling. 
Like Babylon of old, 
We surely pay the piper. 

When the Irish become amenable to reason. 

And can meet on common ground, 

Plant and raise their spuds without friction. 

And community pigs meet on the square ; 

Without bristles standing in air. 

Then the Millennium will be near at hand 

To greet the Irish Super Man. 



29 



THE SUNLIT FLOWER 

Had I the power to create a flower, 

I'd combine them all as one, 

With the fragrance of May and June. 

Then, having sprinkled well with dew, 

Would lift the shade 

And let the sun shine through, 

Presenting it to you. 



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